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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23884309">My Old School</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis'>amythis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lenny Is a Rock Star [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Laverne &amp; Shirley (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:20:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23884309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Laverne goes to her 20th-year high school reunion with three kids, a bunch of eight-tracks, and a head full of memories.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lenny Is a Rock Star [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Lenny is a Rockstar 'Verse</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. California Tumbles into the Sea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Laverne almost slammed on the brakes in surprise as the words sunk in.  It was a shock to hear her three children singing his name, even the baby who was as inarticulate as his namesake grandfather.  But her maternal instinct overrode the shock and she managed to keep driving, not getting in a wreck at the first state border she crossed on her way to her twentieth-year high school reunion.</p><p>Her soon to be ex-husband had tried to talk her out of driving, or at least out of taking the children along.  "Laverne, I can look after them for a week or two."</p><p>"With your schedule?"</p><p>"OK, I'll get a sitter."</p><p>"I've always promised the girls I'd take them to Milwaukee and now school's out."</p><p>"Fine, but make sure you don't drive at night.  And call me when you get there."</p><p>She'd nodded, although it made her a little sad that they'd lost the ability to argue.</p><p>That was what had drawn her to him, when he was a Vietnam vet turned hippie law student, five years her junior.  They met at a protest in '68, on the same side but still with lots to argue about.  Of course they landed in bed, not that day, but within a week.  And then came seven years of fighting and making up, until he went corporate and she wasn't sure they were on the same side anymore.</p><p>"Laverne Levy?" Squiggy had marvelled.  "That's even worse than Shirley Wilhelminy Feeney Meeney!"</p><p>What was really worse was that the groom's name was Levi Levy, although he usually went by Lee.  Jewish but not practicing (into Buddhism when she met him), and definitely not Italian, although her father was just so happy when she told him she was finally getting married, at thirty.</p><p>"Laverne and Levi Levy, huh?" Lenny said, not laughing.  He said he was happy for her, and she knew he always cried at weddings.  But it might not have been coincidental that he left for New York right after her wedding.  She hadn't seen him since then, and he probably wouldn't go to the reunion, since he'd skipped the tenth and fifteenth.  But she would think about him a lot while she was in Milwaukee.</p><p>He hadn't lived in New York in six years, so she hadn't had an excuse to drop in on him when she showed off her cute husband and her adorable girls (Frankie wasn't born yet) to her Brooklyn relatives.  Her grandmother had passed, but there were still the aunts, uncles, and cousins.  And they saw Carmine, who was in the Broadway production of <i>Jesus Christ Superstar</i>, "not the lead, I'm too short for that."</p><p>By then, Lenny had moved to Chicago, then Detroit, and Nashville after that.  He was a backup musician at first, trained in the sidekick role since kindergarten, although he used to trade off singing lead in the days of Lenny &amp; the Squiggtones.  He was usually off on tour with some band, and there were a lot of bands to choose from in the late '60s to early '70s.  So the postcards would come from not just New York, Chicago, Detroit, and Nashville, but all over the U.S., Canada, and, one summer she was heavily pregnant, Great Britain.  He'd tell her to say "hi to the hubby and kids," but that was as personal as he got.</p><p>He'd never played with Steely Dan, so the <i>Countdown to Ecstasy</i> album had no direct connection to him, even if her daughters' favorite song was "My Old School," and he was her old schoolmate.  Seven-year-old Tracy and five-year-old Josie obviously had almost no past to look back on, and they didn't get the drug references, but they loved playing the game of filling in sets of five syllables for "I said, 'Oh no, __________ won't do!' "  Usually it would be food-related, like "pickles bologna" or "jammies and jelly," but that Spring they had started chiming in, "<i>Penny &amp; Cindy</i> won't do!"</p><p>The first-grader and the preschooler had a new favorite TV show, replacing <i>Scooby Doo</i> (although "Scooby and Shaggy" would get occasional pity shout-outs).  They adored the Tuesday hit sitcom about two young female auto-workers in 1950s Detroit.  And they'd want to hear Mommy's stories about that time period in Milwaukee.  So of course she'd mention her friends that she had misadventures with.
</p><p>But she somehow wasn't prepared to hear three angelic little voices (well, not that little, they were her and Lee's kids after all) proclaim, "I said, 'Oh no, Lenny and Squiggy won't do!' "  By the time it sunk in that they'd sung "Lenny" instead of "Penny," she had just crossed over into Nevada.</p><p>She waited until the song was done before she switched over to the <i>What Time Is It on Sesame Street?<i> eight-track.</i></i></p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>But when her children napped just past Royal Cactus, she put <i>Kosmik Kosnowski</i> on real low.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Soon They're Gonna Be in Bloom up in Annandale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After five days on the road, it was good to unpack and know they weren't going anywhere until Sunday, and this was Friday.  It had taken the boys four days to drive the ice cream truck southwest from Milwaukee, so Laverne thought she did pretty well heading back, especially since she was the only driver, with no Shirley to give her guidance, and three small children to manage and amuse.  Six hours a day, with plenty of breaks for meals and restrooms.  (Two-year-old Frankie was recently potty-trained but there were accidents along the way.  At least it was summer, so Laverne had the windows rolled down anyway, although the girls still complained about the "stinkiness.")</p><p>Shirley lived in Annandale, Virginia, twelve hours' drive from Milwaukee, about forty from L.A.  But she was planning to fly from Dulles to Mitchell Airport in Milwaukee.  As a veterinarian, she could afford it, although she still had student debt of course.  Shirley had spent most of her youth waiting for a doctor husband, only to find one and lose him while she was still technically a newlywed, and a new mother.  Walter Meeney was a medic and a Vietnam casualty.  His death was the motivation for Laverne attending her first war protest, where she met Lee.</p><p>As for Shirley, her dreams were shattered as suddenly as they'd come true.  So she had to find new dreams, and a way to support herself beyond Walter's pension and insurance.  She'd always loved animals and she decided she couldn't let her life end at thirty, just because Walter's had.  It wasn't easy being a single mother and a college student, especially in those heady times, but she had a grit and determination that Laverne had always admired.  Shirley looked as soft as Boo Boo Kitty, but she was tough as brass when she had to be.  It took most of her early widowhood to make this new dream come true, but here she was with that brand-new life before forty.</p><p>Little Wally was eight and Shirley, ever the matchmaker, sometimes joked that he would grow up to marry Tracy or Josie, but the last time the kids had seen each other, they got in a tar fight at La Brea.  Laverne was in no hurry for her girls to grow up, although, as Tracy had pointed out in Nebraska, "It's too bad I'm not sixteen, because I could help you drive, Mommy."</p><p>Anyway, Laverne's potential son-in-law was at summer camp, learning to ride horses and make macrame belts.  Laverne didn't know if anyone else was bringing their kids, but she didn't care.  She loved her "sprawn," as childless Squiggy called them, and she wanted to share some more of her past with her present.</p><p>"Can we go on the Shitz tour today, Mommy?"</p><p>She managed not to laugh.  She patted Josie's short, curly black hair and said, "Honey, it's 'Shotz' and I'm not sure they let kids in the brewery."</p><p>"They do if 'accompanied by a parent or guardian, ' " Tracy said, reading from one of the brochures she'd picked up from the lobby.  She was a great reader, which she got from Lee.</p><p>Laverne really wanted to take a nap or at least zone out in front of the color TV set that, along with the air-conditioning, was one of the features boasted of on the neon sign out front.  But she had promised her daughters to show them her old town, and Shotz was definitely a big part of her past.   As for Frankie, he was too young to care beyond the first layer of the Maslow Pyramid of Needs.  (Laverne had taken an Intro to Psych class this past Spring, at night school, as part of her search for meaning in the wake of the separation.)  He went where she took him, and as long as he was fed, cuddled, and allowed to relieve himself, he was happy.</p><p>"OK, let me just change my shoes."</p><p>She'd already switched from the sneakers that were comfortable for driving into her bedroom slippers, but she put the sneakers back on.  She'd wear platforms to the reunion tomorrow, and she told herself it had nothing to do with how good they made her legs look, or with the very slight possibility that a certain six-footer might show up.</p><p>The bus system had changed since she was last in town, for the fifteen-year reunion, and she had to ask in the lobby about the Milwaukee County Transit System.  She found the best route to Shotz and they were soon on their way.  Yes, she could've taken the car, but, as she explained to the kids, "I used to take the bus to work sometimes, so you can see what that's like."</p><p>Tracy patted her hand and said, "And you look tired of driving, Mommy."</p><p>Laverne nodded and stroked Tracy's thick, wavy brown hair.</p><p>Frankie was the only one who had her dark blond hair, not that he had much of it yet.  It was as thin and fine as his grandfather's.</p><p>The kids were allowed on the tour, and in fact, Frankie and Josie got in free because they were under six.  Tracy took pride in being a "big kid," while Josie was the one who boasted to the guide, "Our mommy was a bottle-cupper!"</p><p>The plant was all automated now, even more than when Laverne was fired eleven years ago, which led to her replanting to Southern California.  There were pictures of the old days on the wall, and Laverne even spotted one of her and Shirley posed in their gray-blue labcoats, each with an arm awkwardly on a hip, kerchiefs over their hair.  Laverne had of course sewn a big black cursive L on her coat, which got her a talking-to from Mr. Shotz (via the PA system) back in the Fall of '56, but the Union backed her up on it.</p><p>"You were so pretty, Mommy," Tracy said loyally, although Laverne thought her '50s self was still an ugly duckling and she hadn't really blossomed until the '60s, helped along by more flattering fashions.  (Shirley, in contrast, had the cute girl-next-door looks made for scarves, sweater sets, and poodle skirts.)</p><p>Josie even more loyally said, "You're prettier now."</p><p>Laverne's children gave her unconditional love and support like dogs, although the cynical side of her knew that by the time her thirtieth-year reunion rolled around, the girls would be teenagers who would screech, "I hate you, Mom!" on at least a weekly basis.  She looked forward to that, since she'd never got to that stage with her own mother, who she lost before she was as old as Tracy was now.</p><p>The kids' favorite part of the brewery was naturally the playground where they got to do versions of tasks that Laverne and her friends used to perform for minimum wage.  Frankie toddled over to the truck and climbed into the driver's seat like a natural.  She had one of those unfaithful thoughts that had led to those 1974 pregnancy dreams that she was carrying Lenny's child, and when her only son emerged from her womb with blond fluff and blue eyes, she wouldn't have been surprised if Lee had threatened to divorce her on the spot for adultery.  The eyes had soon darkened to Levy brown (the girls had her green), and the hair was of course from her, but she still felt guilty about it.  As her marriage fell apart, she couldn't help wondering what Lenny would've been like as a father.</p><p>Not that Lee was a bad father.  He was just never home.  As for Lenny, he had in his mid to late 30s turned into a very eligible bachelor, the long-haired rocker fashions suiting him very well, and his solo albums bringing him fame and success, which seemed to be aphrodisiacs, if she could judge by <i>People</i> magazine.  He had a lot of girlfriends, and probably many groupies, and seemed unlikely to settle down.</p><p>And here Laverne was, a housewife who wasn't sure if she wanted to keep the house, even though Lee had offered it, "since you're taking the kids."  Even with the kids, she wondered if she could just keep driving, trade in the '74 Ford Country Squire station wagon for a Winnebago and really discover America.</p><p>Her daughters looked up from the conveyor belt and Tracy said, "Mommy, we need to get you an outfit for the reunion."</p><p>"Sweetie, I packed an outfit for the reunion, remember?"</p><p>"No, something that makes you not look like a mommy," Josie said.</p><p>"But I am a mommy, Honey.  And I love being a mommy."</p><p>"You're gonna see all your old friends and you need to shine like a star!"</p><p>"There's a thrift store on the same block as our motel," practical Tracy said.</p><p>Laverne felt dubious about this and wondered if she should at least wait for Shirley to get in from Annandale.  But she couldn't refuse her girls, especially if they wanted to play fairy godmothers like in <i>Sleeping Beauty</i>.  As for Frankie, she'd buy him cheese snacks from the Shotz gift shop and that should keep him happy for awhile.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Living Like a Gypsy Queen in a Fairytale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What do you think, Mommy?"</p><p>The little girls posed in the doorway of the bathroom like they were on the cover of <i>Dynamite</i> magazine.  Laverne smiled, and not just because her daughters were adorable.  This was supposed to be her ta-da moment, but first she had to oo and aw over Josie's overalls and Big Bird T-shirt, as well as Tracy's quilted skirt and butterfly blouse.  Then she rebuttoned the misbuttoned overalls and straightened the ribbon in Tracy's hair.  Meanwhile, the mellow toddler was in hand-me-down plaid shorts and striped shirt, sucking his thumb as he watched an ancient <i>Heckle and Jeckle</i> cartoon.</p><p>Then Frankie said, "Twill," so she twirled to show off her outfit.</p><p>Josie had said in the thrift shop, "You need to look like Rhoda," because, while Lee was the Jewish one, Laverne had, after six seasons and a spin-off, reluctantly accepted that she was "Rhoda" to Shirley's "Mary."  Josie just thought that Rhoda was the funnier, more interesting, even more glamorous one, and she wanted her mommy to wear head-scarves and peasant blouses, flowing skirts and sandals, even though she'd missed Laverne's hippie period.</p><p>Tracy had a relatively more sophisticated vision of dress-up and makeover.  She said, "She needs to look like Stevie."</p><p>"Wonder?" Laverne had asked in stupefaction, wondering if Tracy wanted her to get big sunglasses and a turtleneck.</p><p>Tracy rolled her eyes like her mother was hopelessly unhip, which gave Laverne not only a preview of what Tracy would be like as a teenager, but a flashback to her own teen years, although she'd rolled her eyes behind her pop's back, so he wouldn't hit her.  (She never spanked her own children, but they weren't as bratty as she had been.)</p><p>"Stevie Nicks, Mommy."</p><p>"Oh yeah, of course.  'Rhiannon.' "</p><p>"Right, you need to be softer and sexier than Rhoda."</p><p>Laverne stared at her firstborn.  "You are not visiting Uncle Squiggy and STAB anymore!"</p><p>Both girls laughed.</p><p>Then Josie said, " 'Sexy' means 'pretty to men you want to be pretty to,' right?"</p><p>"Sometimes, Baby, but...."  Laverne had looked around the thrift store, knowing this was definitely not the time and place for this conversation.</p><p>"It means men look at you and want to touch you," said the seven-year-old.</p><p>"Stevie Nicks means more scarves," Laverne said, and led her offspring over to the accessories aisle.</p><p>So when she twirled in the motel room, she had a Morgensterny paisley head-scarf and a long glittery golden scarf around her neck and trailing down past the cleavage of her black blouse with the billowy sleeves.  She felt more like Dr. Who than a glamorous star, but the whirling dervish effect dazzled her kids at least.  And her flowered skirt spun out satisfactorily.  She somehow kept her balance, although she had insisted on the platforms rather than sandals.</p><p>Her daughters looked at each other and nodded.</p><p>"Go?" Frankie asked.</p><p>She sighed wearily.  She had taken him to the toilet before changing herself, but she'd do it again rather than risk an accident at the reunion.</p><p>Then her son said, "Skoo?" and she realized that he was ready to go to the reunion.  And she realized, so was she.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>....</p>
</div><p>Fillmore High was and always would be a working-class school, so they never rented out the Pfister Hotel, like Jefferson High sometimes did.  Hell, the first few reunions were thrown (in quick succession) by Shirley at the Pizza Bowl.  So here Laverne was, back in the old gym, although everything else in her life had changed.</p><p>She looked around for familiar faces.  The Class of '56 was only about one hundred people, and not everyone came back, even those who still lived in Milwaukee.  Also, it had been a long, in some ways hard, twenty years, and she knew she wasn't the only one fighting wrinkles and gray hair.  (Her daughters had insisted she wear her hair long and loose, but at least the paisley covered up some of the gray.)</p><p>There was one head that never seemed to change though.  "Eraserhead!" Laverne yelled across the lightly crowded room.</p><p>The class's biggest nerd came over with his lookalike wife, who was not an alumna.  He warmly clasped her hand and said, "Laverne DeFazio, as I live and breathe."</p><p>"Laverne Levy," Josie corrected him.  She wanted Laverne to keep her married name, "to match us, Mommy," while Tracy thought it would be more "libber" to go back to her maiden name.</p><p>"Oh, yes, of course.  And these must be your children."</p><p>Frankie, who was on Laverne's hip, took his thumb out of his mouth and extended it to Warren.  "Shake."</p><p>The man, who was chubby and balding back at the fifth-year reunion, hesitated and then shook the tiny, drool-covered hand.  "Nice to see you again, Laverne, but I need to talk to Hector."</p><p>In a lifetime of rejection, this was probably the most pathetic, and funniest, Laverne had experienced, but she just nodded and said, "See ya later."</p><p>"Let's find somebody cuter," Josie said when Warren was just out of earshot.</p><p>"And unmarried," Tracy said, shaking her head at the back of Mrs. Eraserhead.</p><p>"Gee whiz, you guys!" Laverne hissed.  "This isn't a singles bar!"</p><p>"We just want to show you off," Tracy said.</p><p>"When we made you look so pretty."</p><p>"Thanks, Flora and Merryweather."</p><p>Both girls giggled.</p><p>"I know you.  I walked with you once upon a dream...."</p><p>Laverne turned in disbelief at the tune being sung in a voice she knew much better than that of Sleeping Beauty's Prince Phillip.  It was not the voice that in Nevada had serenaded her at low volume, "She shines like stars despite her scars."  But it was another voice she loved.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Well, I Did Not Think the Girl Could Be So Cruel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Uncle Carmine!" Tracy cried and gave him a big hug.</p><p>Josie, who was just a baby when she last saw him, clung shyly to Laverne's skirt.  But Frankie again held out his wet little paw and said, "Shake!"</p><p>Carmine hesitated and then gave the toddler a firm handshake.  Then he grinned at Laverne and said, "Hey, Gypsy Queen, it looks like you brought the whole tribe."</p><p>"I don't leave home without them," Laverne said, referencing the American Express commercials.</p><p>Carmine nodded, wiped his hand on his royal blue polyester shirt, and quietly said, "Squiggy told me about you and the king."</p><p>"They're getting a divorce," Tracy said, as if she were a gossipy forty-year-old, rather than the product of a broken home.</p><p>"Uh, yeah, that's what Uncle Squiggy said."</p><p>"Do you think she looks sexy, Uncle Carmine?" Josie asked earnestly.</p><p>"Jesus, Laverne, how old are your kids anyway?"</p><p>"They watch a lot of television."</p><p>"Thank God for the Family Hour."</p><p>Laverne nodded and wiped her son's hand on her billowing sleeve.</p><p>"To answer your question, Tracy—"</p><p>"Josie," both girls corrected him.</p><p>"Sorry.  I think your mommy is the prettiest mommy here tonight."</p><p>"Oh, really?" said another familiar voice.</p><p>"Oh, hi, Shirl, I didn't see you there."</p><p>Laverne hadn't either, since she was looking at her kids and Carmine.  Her best friend was wearing a pink polyester pantsuit and sensible, doctory shoes.  But Laverne agreed completely with Carmine when he said, "Well, Shirley is a pretty mommy, too," except she'd always thought Shirley was prettier, although not as sexy.</p><p>"Thank you, Carmine," Shirley said and kissed his cheek.</p><p>"Mama mia!" he exclaimed, like a stereotypical Italian in an old movie.</p><p>The little girls gave each other knowing looks, like they were elderly matchmakers.</p><p>Then Laverne set down Frankie for a minute so she could give Shirley a big hug.  They could go months or even years without seeing each other, but it always felt like only eight seconds had passed, except with more hugging.</p><p>Then Shirley hugged each of the kids, exclaiming over how much they'd grown and how cute they looked.</p><p>"Do you like Mommy's outfit?" Josie asked.</p><p>"Very chic, huh?"</p><p>"Enough with the fishing for compliments, you two."</p><p>"You look lovely, Laverne.  But that style always suited you."</p><p>"Well, meow!"</p><p>"Oh, Laverne, I didn't mean it that way."</p><p>"Catfight!  Ten bucks!" Hector cried.</p><p>"No," Warren said, shaking his eraserhead pedantically, "you said Laverne and Rosie would get in a catfight, not Laverne and Shirley."</p><p>"We're not fighting!" Shirley yelled.</p><p>"Rosie isn't here yet, is she?" Laverne asked nervously.</p><p>"No," Warren said, pushing up his taped glasses with his middle finger, although he wasn't deliberately flipping anyone off, "she told Terry she's going to be fashionably late."</p><p>"Oo, Laverne, I haven't seen Terry Buttafucco in five years!"  Shirley grabbed Laverne's free arm and dragged her across the room, the little girls skipping happily behind.</p><p>"Later, Guys!" Laverne called, feeling a little guilty for leaving Carmine to talk to Warren and Hector, although it wasn't her fault.</p><p>Terry was even more gorgeous and glamorous than she was at the tenth-year reunion, and the fifteenth.  She was one of those rare people who looked better the older they got, and Laverne would hate her if she weren't one of the nicest, although toughest, people Laverne had ever met.  She was eager to hear what her old friends had been up to, proud of Shirley's success and sympathetic to Laverne's impending divorce.  Terry herself had a job in advertising in Chicago and was still happily single.</p><p>Laverne didn't tell all her old classmates about her divorce, and she discouraged her daughters from bringing it up.  They did seem to confer in whispers about the cuteness and eligibility of every man they saw, especially the ones that Laverne had dated or wanted to date.  For instance, she overheard them agreeing that Pete was good-looking but definitely ineligible with his arm around Bea, who was pregnant for the fourth time.</p><p>The turnout was the best in years, almost as good as Shirley's first reunion in the Fall of '56.  It took awhile to mingle with everyone, especially with three little kids in tow.  Some people seemed to think it was strange that she brought them, but for her, it wasn't any stranger than when she took them to see her old basement apartment on Knapp Street that morning.  (Mrs. Kolcheck had moved down there ten years ago, to cut down on all the stair-climbing.  She must've been pushing 90 or even 100 by now but she was still spry, if deaf as a post.)</p><p>When she brought it up to Shirley when they were standing in the corner, talking in whispers themselves, Shirley said, "Trust me, Laverne, I've had stranger experiences."</p><p>"Hello!"  Only Squiggy could sneak up on people in a corner.  He was wearing a lime-green leisure suit with a plaid polyester shirt that was unbuttoned enough to show gold chains resting against his abundant chest hair.  He would've fit right in at a singles bar, except that he was accompanied by a woman that in later years Laverne would suspect inspired the female members of the B-52s.</p><p>She had the beehive she'd worn since the early '60s but she hadn't moved beyond the mid-'60s in her fashion choices, not that Laverne could judge her too much for that, her daughters having put her into late-hippie garb.  Squiggy's companion was wearing lime-green go-go boots and a black &amp; white geometric minidress, unbelted and doing nothing to disguise her advanced state of pregnancy.  Laverne quickly did the math and realized she hadn't seen Squiggy in six months, although they'd talked on the phone, since they both still lived in the L.A. area.</p><p>"Ladies, and Frankie, allow me to introduce you to my fee-on-see, Francine."</p><p>"We've met," Laverne said, as Frankie held out his hand to shake.</p><p>Francine took it and shook it without complaint, but as usual she didn't say anything.</p><p>Shirley was staring at the class valedictorian, who she probably hadn't seen since the last reunion.  (When she had what she still referred to, when Laverne teased her about it as she of course would, as "my ill-advised one-night stand with that man.")  Laverne elbowed Shirley with her free arm.  Shirley held out her own hand and said, "My pleasure."</p><p>Francine nodded and gave Shirley a firm handshake that seemed to transfer all of Frankie's drool.</p><p>"Well, excuse us, we're gonna mix and mangle," Squiggy said and led his companion into the crowd.</p><p>"Why didn't you tell me Squiggy was engaged?" Shirley hissed as she wiped her hand onto the trousers of her pantsuit.</p><p>"He didn't tell me.  And this might be recent."</p><p>"Mommy, I thought you had to be married to have a baby," Tracy said.</p><p>"She's not just fat?" Josie asked.</p><p>"Um, Girls, why don't you take Frankie over to the refreshment table?" Laverne said, setting her son down.</p><p>"Yay, food!" Josie said and ran over, even though Laverne had taken the kids to McDonald's for dinner an hour ago.</p><p>The big sister shook her head and took her baby brother by the hand.  "Don't worry, Mom, I'll look after them."</p><p>As Tracy led Frankie away, Shirley said, "Your girls are so mature, Laverne!"</p><p>"In some ways, yeah."</p><p>"And Frankie is the cutest toddler I've ever seen!  Even Wally went through his terrible twos."</p><p>"Thanks, but he's not always an angel."  The kids were behaving better than she'd hoped though.</p><p>"And speaking of children, my God, can you imagine what a Squiggy, Jr. would look like?"</p><p>"All babies look like Squiggy.  Or Winston Churchill."  Laverne did think her children were perfect-looking, even as infants, but that was probably a maternal thing because she was at best "sort of pretty" and Lee was good-looking but hardly the most gorgeous man she'd ever dated.</p><p>"Thank God I was on the Pill five years ago," Shirley said, shaking her head.</p><p>Laverne was so surprised by Shirley bringing up the Squiggman one-nighter, she couldn't even tease her, not even about the fact that Carmine was still single and seemed to be eying Shirley from across the room.  It beat him glaring at Laverne for leaving him with Icky Hector and Eraserhead.</p><p>"So I guess just about everyone I expected to see is here," Shirley said, changing the subject not too subtly.  "Except...."</p><p>Laverne knew Shirley almost as well as herself, and she knew that Shirley was going to say something about Squiggy being there without his once inseparable roommate.  "Except Rosie," Laverne said quickly.</p><p>Shirley gave her a knowing look, but it was one of many topics Laverne refused to discuss, her evolving feelings for Lenny, who after all, she hadn't seen in eight years.  "Right, it's still too early for her to be fashionably late."</p><p>They both laughed.</p><p>"Laverne, about Lenny...."</p><p>"Oh, I'd better go check on my kids."  It wasn't just an excuse.  There did seem to be some sort of ruckus over at the refreshment table.</p><p>Shirley went with her and by the time they got to the table, it was clear that the Levy girls were sampling off of adults' plates, without permission.</p><p>"Girls, you know better than that!" Laverne snapped, hoping she wouldn't have to discipline her kids in front of her old classmates, but also feeling like she should.</p><p>"Well, well, well, DeFazio, what do we have here?  Gypsies, tramps, and thieves?"</p><p>She wondered if it would hurt her in divorce court if she hauled off and socked Rosie Greenbaum.  But before she could respond even verbally, her son vomited all over the first Manolo Blahniks to ever set foot in the Fillmore High gymnasium.</p><p>"Um, hi, Laverne," said her favorite adult male voice.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I Was Smoking with the Boys Upstairs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As Laverne cleaned up her son in the girls' locker room off of the gym, she wondered if she dared collect her big bag from the hat-check table.  Even though Frankie was potty-trained, she still brought a couple diapers, "moist towelettes" from Kentucky Fried Chicken, and anything else that might prove useful when accompanied by three small children, as she usually was.  The only reason why she had checked it was that her daughters said it "spoiled the look."</p><p>She had abandoned her daughters, and all those old classmates, ignoring the cries of "Mommy!", "Laverne!", and Rosie's irate "DeFazio!"  Laverne told herself that she had to take care of her baby, but it was cowardice more than motherliness that drove her out of the gym.  Having Lenny show up at right that moment had only added to her humiliation.  That her soon to be ex-husband had discouraged her from taking the kids to the reunion only made things worse.</p><p>She sat on a bench and gently rubbed Frankie's head and belly, murmuring words of comfort like, "It's OK, Baby, it's all right now," while wishing she had someone to mother her.</p><p>The locker room door swung open and there was a friendly physician, although not one trained to help humans.  Shirley had Laverne's bag over her shoulder and she said, "Well, Laverne, you have really thrown a wrench into Hector and Warren's bet."</p><p>She ignored that and asked, "Who's looking after Tracy and Josie?"  She'd been hoping Shirley would.</p><p>"Bea."</p><p>"Great, someone who's actually a good mother."  Pete was probably real glad that he had gone back to his long-term girlfriend at the very end of the '50s.</p><p>"Oh, Vernie, you're a good mother," Shirley said handing over the bag.  "And toddlers throw up."</p><p>"Yeah, especially when they've been eating nothing but junk food all week."</p><p>"Well, OK, you could be better about your children's diet, but they are smart, sweet, and healthy."</p><p>"Well, thanks, Doc."  Laverne rummaged through the bag and found Frankie's binky.  She wished she had her own pacifier and sort of wished that she hadn't given up smoking when she got pregnant with Tracy.  (And she'd only started when she first started dating Lee, because he smoked, both tobacco and pot, although he'd kicked both habits by the time she was pregnant with Josie.)</p><p>"Look, Laverne, about Lenny...."</p><p>Laverne cut her off.  "How ticked off is Rosie?  Is she gonna sue?  'Cause the only lawyer I know is Lee and I'm not sure he'd take my side."</p><p>"She was still screeching when I left the room."</p><p>Laverne couldn't help it, she snorted.  Shirley shook her head but smiled.</p><p>And then Shirley said, "We really do need to talk about Lenny."</p><p>"OK, I have a stupid crush on him!" Laverne blurted out, remembering similar confessions in this locker room, over twenty years ago.</p><p>Shirley waved her hand dismissively.  "Of course you do.  He's your dear old friend turned into a sexy rock star."</p><p>"You think Lenny is sexy?" Laverne said in disbelief, although she supposed the fact that Shirley had once slept with Squiggy meant her '70s standards were different than her '50s or even '60s standards.</p><p>"No, I think that he is sexy to you."</p><p>"Well, yeah," Laverne admitted, grateful that her son wasn't (yet?) as much of a matchmaker as her daughters.  Then she sighed and said, "But I'm a frumpy housewife with three little kids."</p><p>"You are not frumpy."</p><p>"Well, I still haven't lost all my pregnancy weight."</p><p>"You are gorgeous, especially in Lenny's eyes."</p><p>"You're basing this off the way he said, 'Um, hi, Laverne'?"</p><p>"I am basing it off the interviews where he says he's still looking for Ms. Right and songs like 'Lady of the Night.' "</p><p>That single off the <i>Kosmik Kosnowski</i> album was not about prostitution, but about a woman who was as mysterious, frightening, and seductive as the night.  Laverne had always wondered about the lines "I thought I knew you well/ But you put me through L/ Lady of the Night."</p><p>"You think?" she whispered.</p><p>"Why don't you ask him?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah, like he'll tell me what he wouldn't tell <i>Rolling Stone</i> and <i>CREEM</i>."</p><p>"I don't think Lenny has ever had a problem talking honestly with you."</p><p>"Yeah, the old Lenny, the one I've hardly heard from in eight years."</p><p>"Don't you think that might have something to do with what you did eight years ago?"</p><p>"Well, yeah, but I can't just walk up to him and say, 'So, Len, I'm getting a divorce.  Let's pick up where we left off."</p><p>"Why would you want to?  You're not the same person you were in '68 and neither is he.  And that's a good thing."</p><p>"Well, yeah.  I mean, I love my kids."  She pulled Frankie onto her lap and kissed the top of his head.  "And I don't even regret my marriage to Lee, because we were happy for awhile, in some ways, and my life is what my life is, you know?"</p><p>Shirley nodded.  Of course she understood, since the last eight years had changed her, too.  She said, "Why don't you find out what you and Lenny are like together now?"</p><p>"You're actually suggesting I date Lenny Kosnowski?"</p><p>"I'm suggesting you have a conversation with the man and then see where it goes from there."</p><p>Laverne sighed and nodded.  "I guess I should."  Then she shook her head.  "With my two little matchmakers listening in?  Not to mention a good chunk of the Class of '56."</p><p>"I'll look after your kids and you can find someplace more private to talk to Lenny."</p><p>"If he wants to talk to me."</p><p>"I think 'Um, hi, Laverne' in a room full of other people means he wants to talk to you."</p><p>Laverne blushed but got to her feet.  "Thanks, Shirl."</p><p>Shirley shrugged and said, "Hey, at least this time you didn't get fruit punch all over you."</p><p>"The night is still young," Laverne said, making Shirley chuckle.  Laverne passed over the bag but still held Frankie, finding her baby comforting, although she probably would have to hand him off to Shirley, or, ugh, Bea, if she did get a chance to talk to Lenny.</p><p>When they got back to the refreshment table, both Rosie and Lenny were gone.  Anne Marie was singing TV theme songs with the Levy girls.  She did not wear the full habit she'd worn to the reunion in '58 (and that Laverne's pen pal Sister Margaret still wore at St. Andrews), but just the simple veil that her order required after the Second Vatican Council.  Laverne really wanted to talk to "Nutsy" but there was too much going on, and she had to be "Gutsy" enough to face Lenny.</p><p>"Gee, you're good with kids, Anne Marie.  It's too bad you never became a mutter."</p><p>"I'm afraid that's not possible, Squiggy."</p><p>"You ain't too old.  I knocked up Francine and she's pushin' forty."</p><p>"Where's Lenny?" "Klutzy" clumsily broke in.</p><p>"He's out in the hallway, Aunt Shirley," Tracy answered.</p><p>"Talking to that mean lady with the big red hair and yucky furs," Josie said with her "ick" face.  She probably knew who Big Rosie was from Laverne's stories or could figure it out.  In fact, Laverne was starting to suspect that her daughters had induced vomiting in their brother, indirectly at least.</p><p>She would talk to them later, but it looked like she would have to face both Lenny and Rosie right now.  She looked at Shirley, who nodded, and took Frankie into her own arms.  The little boy said, "Go, Mommy," so she did.</p><p>They had their backs to her but she could see plumes of smoke and hear intense murmurs.  Rosie was indeed wearing furs, probably not fake, a mink stole and a leopard jacket, along with an emerald green velvet pantsuit.  She was barefoot, which made Laverne feel both guilty and amused.</p><p>As for Lenny, sigh.  He looked very Framptony, especially from the back.  Not as skinny as Peter F., or as his younger self, and for that matter not as short as Frampton.  But he'd paired tight white jeans with a soft-looking, long-sleeved yellow shirt.  (She knew it was buttoned to the collar, but ogling him from behind she could pretend it was completely unbuttoned.)  His long blond hair even looked permed rather than straight.  She wasn't surprised by this look, since it was on the <i>Kosmik</i> cover, but it had still thrown her to see it in person during a stressful moment.</p><p>"The thing about DeFazio is..," Rosie said just audibly.</p><p>"Is what?" Laverne said more than audibly, striding over and pushing up her billowy sleeves.</p><p>Both former classmates turned to look at her.  Lenny guiltily stubbed out his cigarette against a locker like he'd been caught by Vice-Principal Marshall.  (Inspiration for the early Coasters-style Lenny &amp; the Squiggtones song "Marshall Law," which popped up twenty years later on Lenny's second solo album, with Squiggy guesting as the lead singer.)</p><p>Rosie put one chubby fist on an ample hip and said, "The thing about DeFazio is other people always have to clean up her messes, but if Kosnowski wants to pay to replace my shoes, that's his affair."  She took a puff of her cigarette and blew a perfect smoke ring that Laverne hated herself for admiring.</p><p>Laverne blushed at the word "affair," but she made herself say, "Lenny, you don't have to do that.  Lee makes good money."  Even though she took her kids to fast food restaurants and shopped in thrift stores, she knew she was technically upper-middle-class, although in her mind she would always be working-class.</p><p>"I don't mind."</p><p>She expected Greenbaum to say something about Laverne's impending divorce, but instead Rosie shook her head and said, "You two hash it out.  I'm gonna wait outside for Ogden to bring me my spare heels."  She swaggered down the hallway like she was Mae West, or John Wayne.</p><p>Laverne waited until they were alone before she said, "Listen, Len, I really wanna talk to you but not at school."</p><p>"You wanna go get a drink?"</p><p>"Lenny, I've got three little kids."  She meant both that she couldn't just head off to a bar with him and that she wasn't sure he'd want to take that on in his footloose and fancy-free lifestyle.</p><p>"We could go back to your hotel."</p><p>"Leonard J. Kosnowski, did you just hit on me?" she teased.  He didn't even have a middle name, although for a few months back in '63 he tried out J. as an initial, unable to decide between "James" and "John."  Laverne and Squiggy would say it stood for "Jerk" when they were annoyed with him, more often in her case of course.</p><p>He blushed and stammered, "N-n-no, Laverne, I, I, I didn't mean it like that."</p><p>She poked him in the ribs.  "I know.  Do you wanna leave already?  You won't have seen much of the reunion."</p><p>"I saw the best part," he said, leaning both against the locker and towards her, making her feel like she should be in an angora sweater and a poodle skirt.</p><p>She also felt like he wanted to kiss her and she couldn't face that just yet, so she backed a way a little and said, "Yeah, it's moments like your only son puking on your archenemy's feet that make you proud to be a parent."</p><p>Lenny's face clouded over.  "I wouldn't know."</p><p>She felt weirdly guilty about that, like she had cheated him out of children by turning down so many of his marriage proposals.  Then she remembered that he hadn't exactly missed out on female companionship since they last met.  "Come on, I've gotta get my kids, and you can carry my bag out to my car."</p><p>He followed her down the hallway and she wasn't sure how to feel about him seeing her from behind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. I Remember the Thirty-Five Sweet Goodbyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As they went out to the station wagon, they passed Rosie nagging Ogden for bringing the wrong shoes.  Laverne didn't bother to say goodnight.  It had been bad enough having all their other classmates in attendance give them overly supportive goodbyes, as if Laverne going out with Lenny meant she was GOING OUT WITH LENNY.  No one said anything directly, after all they were middle-aged now, but she could see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices.</p><p>Shirley did whisper, "Good luck," when she passed Frankie back to Laverne, and Squiggy whispered something to Lenny that made him blush and punch Squiggy in the shoulder.  Then the boys did their "Stupid!" hand-shake.</p><p>"Where are you parked?" she asked Lenny, figuring she'd give him directions to the motel and then, what then?  Well, they could talk in the hallway she supposed.</p><p>"I took a cab."</p><p>"What, no limo?"</p><p>"I left it on my private jet."</p><p>"Wow!"</p><p>Tracy shook her head.  "He's joking, Josie."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>Laverne unlocked the door and the girls got in the back as usual.  "Um, you can undo the baby seat if you'll hold Frankie."</p><p>"I can do that."</p><p>It felt so much like a family in a family car, in a way it never had with Lee, that it frightened Laverne a little.  That Lenny looked like he could be the father of the toddler in his arms didn't help.</p><p>"Mommy, play our song!" Josie said, bouncing as she buckled up.</p><p>"Your song?" Lenny asked with one eyebrow raised.</p><p>"Yes, the 'Oh no' song," Tracy said, as she pushed aside the baby seat that Lenny had handed back to her.</p><p>"Your kids are into Lennon's post-Beatles stuff?"</p><p>"They mean 'My Old School.'  Can you fish out the eight-track?  It should be under your seat."</p><p>"Sure," he said, passing Frankie back to her.   He felt around under the shotgun seat and pulled up a handful of tapes.  "Hm," he said, as he glanced at and then tossed aside his three solo albums, in chronological order, <i>Leonard Skinnier, Count Bassist,</i> and <i>Kosmik Kosnowski</i>.  Then he said, "Ah, I found <i>Ecstasy</i>."</p><p>She gave him a <i>Not in front of the kids</i> look as he put the <i>Countdown to Ecstasy</i> cartridge into her player.  Then she passed over her son and started the car.  She had to fast-forward, punching the buttons at red lights until she got to the girls' favorite.  She just prayed that they wouldn't sing, "Lenny &amp; Squiggy won't do!" this time.</p><p>Lenny grinned as they proclaimed that "Bertie and Ernie" and <i>Penny &amp; Cindy</i> wouldn't do.  But when it got up to what was supposed to be "Guadalajara," he beat them to the punch with "She said, 'Oh no, Tracy and Josie won't do!' "  This sent the girls into a fit of enchanted giggles.</p><p>The motel wasn't too far away.  As she parked, Laverne self-consciously said, "It's nothin' fancy," thinking of how she could've afforded better, although not as fancy as Lenny could these days.</p><p>"Well, it's no Royal Cactus," he teased, making her blush at a memory that was sweeter and less outrageous than the tall tales their best friends would tell months later to try to get out of paying damages.  She had given him a goodnight kiss in the bathroom of that sleazy Nevada motel room.  They were posing as husband and wife, as were Shirley and Squiggy, but the other two had, while Laverne and Lenny were squabbling over who got to brush their teeth first, gotten involved in an ill-advised game of indoor frisbee.</p><p>"What's a royal cactus?" Josie asked.</p><p>"One that wears a crown on its top stem."  This was definitely not a story from her youth that she was going to share with her daughters any time soon.</p><p>The answer seemed to content Josie, although her older sister looked skeptical but kept silent.  Everyone got out of the car and Laverne grabbed her big bag from under her seat.  She led her children and Lenny into the building and then to the room.  He looked a little surprised that there was no front room, just a bedroom and a bathroom.  He'd probably pictured them cozying up in the living room area while the kids slept in the other room.</p><p>"Can I use the can?" Lenny asked.  "I didn't have a chance at the reunion."</p><p>"Yeah, go ahead."</p><p>She got the children changed into their pajamas and tucked in before he returned and she half wondered if he was brushing his teeth and otherwise freshening up, although he'd have to use her toiletries.  She couldn't help wondering what his hotel room was like, probably at the Pfister, and what would've happened if she was on her own and free to join him there.</p><p>Then she felt disloyal to her kids and she guiltily kissed their foreheads, all lying in a line in the one bed, Frankie in the middle so he wouldn't roll off in the middle of the night.</p><p>"I should probably go," Lenny said from the bathroom doorway.</p><p>"It was good to finally meet you," Tracy said.</p><p>Josie shook her curly head.  "No, you can't go yet!  O'Malley wouldn't go!"</p><p>"O'Malley?" he said.</p><p>"Shut up, Josie!" Tracy muttered, trying to elbow her sister without hitting their brother.</p><p>Tracy ignored her and said, "O'Malley helped Duchess and the kittens!"</p><p>Lenny smiled and sang in a deep voice, "Abraham De Lacy Guiseppe Casey Thomas O'Malley, O'Malley the alley cat."</p><p>"Mommy, he's perfect!  He has to be our new daddy!"</p><p>"Shut up, Josie!" Tracy said more urgently, reaching over and pulling her kid sister's curls, making Josie cry loudly.</p><p>"Girls, stop that!  Lenny, I'm real sorry."</p><p>"It's fine."</p><p>With his eyes closed, Frankie sleepily sang, "Ev'body wants to be a cat," which was probably the longest sentence he'd ever uttered.</p><p>"Len, can we talk in the hallway?"</p><p>"OK."</p><p>"You girls stay with your brother," she ordered, although she had the feeling they'd rush right into the bathroom and grab glasses to put against the wall.  Well, maybe they were too young to know that trick.</p><p>"Yes, Mommy," they said angelically, making her roll her eyes.</p><p>She followed Lenny to the door and then turned and did her best "motherly glare," something worthy of Barb Feeney.  She knew that however the rest of this night went, she would tell Barb's only daughter all about it, when she was safely back in California and had had time to think it through.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. And I'm Never Going Back to My Old School</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Laverne shut the door behind her and leaned against it.</p><p>Lenny stood very close and whispered, "You just thought they were shopping for a rebound boyfriend for you, not a stepdaddy for them."</p><p>Blushing furiously, she whispered back, "Len, I swear, I just thought they were dressing me up for the reunion, until we got there I mean, and the two yentas went into action."</p><p>He chuckled but shook his head.  "They must've seen my interview for <i>Dynamite</i>."</p><p>"Oh yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah, you know, one of those preteeny-bopper things where I answer questions like 'Who do you think is the prettiest actress on television?'  I blanked out and then said Valerie Harper."</p><p>"So you don't like Rhoda?"</p><p>"No, I like her, although this look works better on you.  Well, I think you've got a bit of Stevie Nicks going, too, which I really like."</p><p>"Lenny, don't do this to me."</p><p>"Do what?"</p><p>"Shift from awkwardly adorable boy I grew up with to smooth-talking superstar."</p><p>He shook his head.  "This is only smooth-talking compared to when I was young.  And I'm not a superstar.  I'm a pretty-good-star.  And you are still Laverne DeFazio, the girl I spent half of the first thirty years of my life chasing after.  Don't you think I'm a little starstruck myself?"</p><p>"Lenny, if your memories have put me on some sort of pedestal, it's reality-check time.  I'm just a wife and mother and I've never done anything with my life."</p><p>"You've been a good friend and made people's lives better.  Even Rosie's."</p><p>"Rosie's?!  How, by feeding my son junk so that he'll puke on her expensive shoes?"</p><p>"So it was deliberate?"</p><p>"No!"</p><p>"Well, she doesn't hold a grudge about it anyway.  She just wants the shoes replaced."</p><p>"You really don't have to pay for that."</p><p>"I want to.  And maybe I'm doing it for Rosie's sake, not yours."</p><p>A fear suddenly flashed through her that she had misread the situation when she caught them smoking and thought that Rosie was giving Lenny a pep talk, as Shirley had given her one in the locker room.  Maybe something was going on with Big Rosie and Lenny, or had in the past.</p><p>"She's been real supportive of my career and she teases me about writing so many songs about you."</p><p>A whoosh of shock and relief went through Laverne's whole being.  "I, I, I, I mean, I wondered."</p><p>He smiled.  "I tried to be subtle, but, well, I hope they were at least more subtle than the song I stayed up all night writing fifteen years ago."</p><p>She nodded, unable to speak at that moment.</p><p>"I always kept dating other girls, sorry, other women, even before you got married, kept searching, but you're it, Laverne.  I've known that on some level for about twenty-five years.  You're all I want, even if I can't have you."  He shrugged.  "My tragic backstory the press wonders about.  Well, that and being abandoned by my mother, which I don't feel like spilling my guts to everyone about either."</p><p>"God, Lenny, I guess I hoped that, but how would we even work?"</p><p>"I think we would work together real well," he said with a mix of innocence and seductiveness that just about killed her.</p><p>"I don't mean sex."  She whispered the last word, and not just because her daughters might be eavesdropping.  "I mean, well, I wouldn't want you to give up your career.  And you'd need to be off in Detroit or Nashville or London or wherever."</p><p>"Yeah?  Let me tell you about my 'career.'  I write my music.  I record my music.  The record company releases my music.  I go on tour to promote my music.  Then I come home and collapse in exhaustion and don't want to even think about my music.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  And I'd be gone only one out of those five steps and the rest of the time, I could be around, because I don't know if you know this, Laverne, but Los Angeles happens to have a thriving music industry."</p><p>"So what you're sayin' is you'd be underfoot most of the time?"</p><p>"I'll be under whatever part of your body you want me to be, Laverne."</p><p>She wanted to scold him but instead she put her arms around his neck and murmured, "You big dope."</p><p>They kissed long, deeply, and sweetly.  (He tasted like breath mints more than cigarettes.)  She wanted to stay in the hallway, just kissing him.  Well, OK, and maybe making out more than that.  But she had to get back to her kids, so she let go after a few minutes.</p><p>He nodded like he understood.  "So I guess I'll see you at the wedding."</p><p>She blinked.  "Let's not rush into things, Len!"</p><p>He chuckled.  "No, I mean Squiggy's wedding day."  He sang the last three words, because that was another old chestnut that he resurrected for <i>Count Bassist</i>.</p><p>"Yeah, I heard the Big Bopper and President Eisenhower were gonna be there."</p><p>He smiled.  "Yeah, I felt like I should go, even though Francine has always thought I'm weird-looking."</p><p>"You are weird-looking, but most celebrities are these days."</p><p>"Yeah.  So you wanna be my date to the wedding?"</p><p>"Sure, if you don't mind me bringing along three little chaperones."</p><p>"Just promise that Frankie will barf on the bride's shoes."</p><p>She poked his side.  "You goof."</p><p>Then they kissed goodnight and goodbye for now.</p><p>When she went back into the room, Josie was snoring softly but Tracy whispered, "How did it go?"</p><p>Laverne took off her platforms but left the rest of her "Gypsy queen" outfit on.  She crawled into bed and snuggled up next to her firstborn.  "He's gonna visit us in California," she whispered.</p><p>"Can we take him to Disneyland?"</p><p>Laverne remembered going there with him and Squiggy eleven long years ago.  A lot had changed, and not just in the Magic Kingdom, but not everything.  "That would be fun."  She knew he'd be fine with that part of step-fatherhood, or at least Mommy's-boyfriend-hood.  He probably knew nothing about the tough parts of parenthood, but she could teach him.</p><p>"Yeah.  And you could get a sitter and go on real dates, without us, like to discos."</p><p>Lenny still wasn't much of a dancer, as she'd seen on <i>American Bandstand</i> and <i>The Midnight Special</i>, but, yeah, she'd like to teach him disco-dancing, too.  She didn't address that part though and instead said, "A sitter, huh?  Like Mary Poppins?"</p><p>"We like Aunt Francine.  She's funny."</p><p>Laverne could've pointed out that Francine was going to be pretty busy with a baby of her own, or asked how her daughters had gotten attached to Squiggy's strange, silent girlfriend so quickly.  But she just stroked Tracy's long brown hair and said, "Get some sleep, Sweetie.  I'm gonna get ready for bed in a little bit."</p><p>"Well, don't forget you've got a long road ahead of you, Mommy."</p><p>Laverne nodded and got out of bed.  As she changed out of her Morgenstern-Nicks ensemble and into her comfortable old pajamas, she imagined Lenny coming home from the recording studio, eager to tell her about the frustrations and joys of his music.  She'd rub his shoulders and tell him what crazy shenanigans the kids got up to that day, and maybe the youngest really would be his.</p><p>But there was no need to jump into anything, even dreams.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you, Everyone, especially Penny Marshall, for this journey.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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